The Wrangler's Inconvenient Wife

by Lacy Williams

  Fran sniffed.

  He cut his eyes to her. She dabbed at her eyes with part of one sleeve.

  When she saw him looking at her, she gave a wobbly smile.

  He dropped the letter on the table and swung one arm around her shoulders. Holding her close was like coming home all over again. Having her there beside him made reading the letter bearable. Not only that, but he never would’ve had the letter if it weren’t for her.

  She sniffled a little, and then wiggled away. “Finish it.”

  He shifted the first page away to see there was a second. Did he really need to know what had made his ma abandon him?

  “I don’t need to finish it. Knowing Priscilla loved me is enough.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes shining and a little exasperated. “C’mon. You’ll never be settled unless you know.”

  He steeled himself and picked up the second page. Because she was right.

  “As to your mother, the truth is that she was very sick when she brought you to the orphanage. Over the years, I have seen many parents have to leave their children in my care for a myriad of reasons. Often, the parents are more sorrowful than the children, who cannot really understand what is happening.

  Perhaps your mother claimed she would return as her own way to comfort you. Perhaps she thought she would get better. I don’t know what prompted her to give you a promise she could not be sure of fulfilling.

  I was notified several months after your arrival that she had passed away. You and I did have a conversation about it, but how much does a child of five really understand about death?

  Know that your mother loved you, and did her best for you when she could no longer take care of you herself. I don’t know why she was on her own or what might’ve become of her family, but her tears on the day she left you in my care told me of her love for you.

  With my retirement looming, I find that perhaps I might enjoy a trip to the Wild West. If you would welcome me, I would love to visit the boy I knew and discover the kind of man he has become.

  Sincerely, Priscilla Henderson, Director.”

  * * *

  Edgar stared down at the page for a long time, emotion clogging his throat.

  His ma had been sick. Dying.

  And that was why she’d left him.

  Not because of anything he’d done.

  It was both a comfort and a blow. His ma was gone. But she’d loved him.

  Fran was quiet beside him. Unusual for her.

  He cleared his throat. The shimmer in her eyes wasn’t unwelcome anymore.

  “Are you...angry now?” she asked softly.

  Was he? She’d nosed into his business without his permission. But she’d given him a gift no one else had been able to. “No. No, I’m not angry.”

  He turned to her, straddling the bench. His gut clenched. She’d been open to him since he’d come in. Now it was time to make his declarations.

  She deserved the best of him. And that meant opening his heart. Even if it was the scariest thing he’d faced. What if, after everything that had happened, she found him wanting? The only thing more frightening was the thought of losing her.

  He opened his mouth.

  And the door burst open.

  “Lunchtime yet?” Seb called out. Emma followed him in, though Daniel was nowhere to be seen.

  “Do you want some help with the recipe cards?” Emma asked, coming to the table.

  Seb banged around the kitchen.

  They obviously weren’t leaving, and he didn’t intend to say what he needed to say with an audience.

  “You want to take a walk?” he asked.

  * * *

  Fran followed Edgar from the house and past the barn. When she and Emma had been at the ranch overnight that first day, she’d been exhausted from travel and fear. Now that she’d had a couple of days to learn the lay of the land, she loved its unique charm.

  The main cabin had obviously originally been built with only two or three rooms, and then been added on to multiple times. The barn was older, the bunkhouse newer to serve the growing family. Extending off the back of the barn was a large corral with several horses. Across the valley, she could see another cabin tucked in among some trees. A small creek cut across the land and sparkled in the late morning sunlight.

  Edgar marched her past all of it. He seemed like a man with a goal, intent on reaching some destination.

  She followed him, her heart light although she was unaccountably nervous. She’d been surprised that her letter had been answered so quickly, but Edgar’s neighbor had been in a nearby town and picked it up for him. She’d been even more surprised that Edgar hadn’t been angry, that he’d opened up to her.

  It had increased her hope exponentially.

  They passed the creek and climbed a gentle hill, moving through prairie grasses that reminded her of the moments they’d shared lying out in the field near the chuck wagon.

  She slowed without really realizing it, swirling one hand through the tops of the soft grasses.

  He turned back. “Am I walking too fast for you?”

  “No. I’m just dawdling. Daydreaming.”

  He reached out one hand to her and she took it, his large, warm clasp welcome. He drew her to his side and she looked up at him—all the way up to his dear face.

  “Don’t send me away,” she demanded, as softly and cajolingly as she could. “I...” And then she paused, unable to say she loved him without knowing how he truly felt. “I want to make our marriage work. We are a good fit for each other.”

  “You think so, hmm?” He asked the question in such a level voice, without inflection and with no expression on his face, that for one moment her stomach dipped low.

  Then he hauled her into his arms and pressed his face into her hair, his breath hot on the crown of her head.

  “I love you,” he murmured.

  She could feel him shaking. She wrapped her arms around his middle and hung on as tightly as she could.

  “I didn’t want to, not at the beginning,” he said, ducking his head to brush a kiss on her cheek and speak into her ear. “You turned my life upside down and showed me that I needed to be shaken out of my safe rut.”

  He pulled back and framed her face with his hands. “Do you... Are you sure you can be happy in Bear Creek? On this ranch? With me?”

  She saw the genuine fear behind the question, the remnants of that little boy who had watched and waited for his mother to come back for him every day.

  It made her eyes mist a little.

  “Yes. Because I love you, too.”

  He kissed her until they were both breathless, then held her tightly, his joy evident in his sudden loud, effervescent whoop.

  She laughed.

  “I was thinking we could build a little cabin of our own. Right about here. You get a pretty picture of the valley....” He whirled her around to see what he was talking about, without letting go of her.

  “Your sister can stay on if she wants....”

  She took in the surrounding view. The barn and main house in the distance, the arching blue sky and wildflowers all around.

  “...raise horses, and of course the cattle, a cut of the family herd...”

  And her husband, making plans.

  She’d arrived in Bear Creek afraid, running for hers and Emma’s lives.

  And God had given her this man, and this new life.

  It was much to be thankful for.

  Epilogue

  “Keep ’em closed. No peeking.” Edgar cupped his hand over Fran’s eyes, just in case.

  She sighed. Then giggled.

  “You know I saw the cabin yesterday,” she reminded him.

  “But the roof wasn’t on yesterday,” he parrie
d right back.

  Riding his big black with her just in front of him gave him the perfect opportunity to hold her close—so he did, as he guided the horse up the hill to their newly finished home.

  Home.

  He hadn’t realized that the word could mean a person. He knew that now, no matter where he went, with Fran by his side, he’d be home.

  After two weeks together, the emotion, the completeness, still brought that uncomfortable warmth to his chest. Only he was getting used to it now.

  They crested the hill where he’d first shown her his dream spot for building a cabin of their own. Between his brothers working with him well into the night for several days, and a house-raising party the folks of Bear Creek had held the previous weekend, Fran would have a home of her own. Today.

  Just in time for his parents’ homecoming later that afternoon.

  He was looking forward to having Fran to himself. He thought Breanna would probably be happy to share her room with Emma for a bit, and Daniel planned to stay with the brothers in the bunkhouse.

  Between the rush to finish their house and the heavy spring chores, he felt like he’d barely seen his wife since he’d come home from selling the cattle. But now that was all about to change. Even though the chores would continue—ranch life necessitated that—he would have time in the evenings with her.

  His brothers had teased him mercilessly, but he’d also caught the tail end of a conversation that sounded like they were planning on letting him take it easy for several days, a sort of “working honeymoon.”

  The old Edgar might’ve insisted on taking on his share of the work, but with his new outlook on life and love, he would take their gift and be thankful.

  He was unaccountably nervous about showing the finished place to Fran. As she’d said, she’d been up there every day, checking on the progress as the place was built.

  But what if she didn’t like it?

  She hadn’t said as much, but he imagined her parents’ home and the finishing school she’d attended in Memphis had been well appointed, nice.

  But this was all he had to offer her. It was snug, but small. He’d modeled it after Oscar’s place, with hewn logs for the walls and glass windows where he could fit them.

  It was a house that could survive many Wyoming winters, a place they could grow old in together.

  Maybe with a passel of kids around them.

  “All right.” He drew up the horse a few yards away from the front door. “No peeking.”

  He slid off the horse and reached up for her.

  She came into his arms, eyes still closed, totally trusting him. It was a gift he couldn’t take for granted, not after what had happened—and what could’ve happened—with Underhill.

  Her nose wrinkled adorably. “Did you light a fire?”

  With her waist already in his hands, he took the opportunity to draw her to his chest, tucking her in close. “Had to test the new cookstove,” he said against her temple. “Didn’t want the place burning down around you the first time you make my supper.”

  She hummed, the soft noise vibrating through his chest. Then pushed against him. “I thought you were going to show me the house, not sneak me away up here to steal kisses.”

  He brushed one across her cheek. “Maybe it was both.”

  Then he let her go, gently spinning her with his hands at her waist to face the house. “All right, you can open your eyes now.”

  With her in front of him, he could only see the side of one cheek, but she gasped and then looked back at him, and her eyes were shining.

  And all the long nights and backbreaking work were suddenly worth it.

  “You planted flowers?” she asked, turning back toward the house and taking several steps forward. He followed.

  He’d thought the two scraggly bushes and overturned mud that Seb had insisted on planting on either side of the doorway had been ridiculous, but maybe his brother had been right.

  “Roses,” he said. “Gift from Seb and a lady in town.”

  “And you’ve washed the windows,” she murmured.

  “Emma.”

  She paused halfway to the building and craned her neck back. “The roof looks good. Nice and watertight.”

  He couldn’t help that his chest puffed with pride.

  “And you didn’t let Daniel fall and break his neck, either.”

  And he deflated with a laugh. Fran definitely didn’t allow his pride to get out of control. “It was a close call. Several times.”

  Her eyes danced at him.

  He had been surprised that Fran’s brother had wanted to help with their new place. The city slicker was as out of place as a peacock in a henhouse. But he’d promised to stay until the girls were settled. Who knew? Maybe the fresh Wyoming air would do him some good in getting back to full health.

  “Can we go in?” Fran asked.

  He ushered her to the front door.

  She went still so quickly that he was half outside the threshold, eyes trying to adjust from being in the bright sunlight. He guessed she’d seen his wedding gift for her.

  “What did you do?” She barely breathed the words.

  “You wrote a letter on my behalf,” he said. “I took it upon myself to do the same. Dan told me that his health had kept him from saving most of your parents’ belongings when the mortgage defaulted, but I was able to get in touch with a nice lady who sent this on the train for me.”

  He’d left the cedar chest in the dead center of the living room, so it would be the first thing she saw when she came in.

  She knelt in front of the long wooden box, hands shaking as she spread them on the worn, scarred top.

  “I can’t believe you did this.”

  She pushed open the lid and froze again. He thought he heard her sniffle so he moved up beside her.

  She reached inside and held up a white, fancy-looking dress. “It’s my grandma’s wedding dress.” She said the words almost reverently.

  “Well, it’s too late for you, but maybe Emma can wear it in a few years.”

  She sent a wobbly smile over her shoulder. “I was thinking the same thing.”

  Next, she untucked a stack of faded letters tied with a ribbon. “My papa sent them to my mama when they were courting.”

  And in the bottom was a family portrait. It was several years old, because she’d been a teenager in it, but it had all five members of her family together.

  She set it down gently in the chest, then got to her feet and threw herself at him.

  He caught her and her arms went around his neck.

  “You’re not upset?” he asked, because he still couldn’t be sure about all feminine emotions.

  She shook her head, the top of her hair brushing his still-shaved chin. “I’m so...happy. I can’t believe— It’s the best gift I’ve ever received.”

  She raised up on her tiptoes and kissed him.

  Moments later, he held her face in one big paw. “That’s exactly how I feel about you. You’re the best gift God could have surprised me with.”

  * * * * *

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THE CATTLEMAN MEETS HIS MATCH by Sherri Shackelford.

  Dear Reader,

  Did you have fun getting to know the third White brother, Edgar, like I did? Matching up this rough-and-tumble cowboy was a wild ride, and I hope you enjoyed it, too. During my research, I learned a lot about how much work cattle drives really were for the wranglers and their animals, as well as what a “Cookie” really had to deal with driving the chuck wagon all day and cooking the afternoon away. I’m not the best cook, but I can’t imagine making do over an open fire with cattle kicking up all that dust!

  I would love to know what you thought of this book. You can reach me at lacyjwilliams@gmail.com
or by sending a note to Lacy Williams, 340 S. Lemon Ave. #1639, Walnut, CA 91789. If you’d like to find out about all my latest releases in an occasional email blast, sign up at http://bit.ly/15lA19O.

  Thanks for reading!

  Lacy Williams

  Questions for Discussion

  Who did you relate to more in this story: the hero, the heroine or another character? Why?

  What was your favorite moment in the story? Why?

  Both Fran and Edgar suffered losses in their past that shaped the way they saw the future. Describe something that happened in your past and how it affected the way you view things.

  How does Fran help Edgar grow and change during the story?

  Fran tried to control the situation with her sister and the men chasing them. Did she succeed? How did her view of the situation change by the end of the story?

  Edgar had a tumultuous relationship with his brother Ricky. Do you feel he handled the relationship well or poorly? What would you have done differently?

  Do any of the characters in this story remind you of someone you know? Who, and why?

  How do Edgar’s brothers influence his thoughts and decisions?

  Orphan trains resulted in both Edgar and Fran finding new families—although not in the same ways! How do you think children riding the orphan trains felt as they traveled to unknown destinations to make a new start?

  What was the theme of this story? What parts of the story really showed the theme?

  Edgar never planned to marry, but God had something else in mind for him. Tell about a time when you had a plan but God changed it for you. What was the result?

  What was your favorite scene in the book? Why?

  When did Edgar’s feelings for Fran begin to change? Why?

  During the cattle drive, Fran was put in different situations she never imagined she would have to face. Do you think these situations made her stronger? Why or why not?

  What was your first impression of Edgar? Did it change over the course of the story? Why or why not?